


Cigarette smoke and memories

by Anony_quill



Series: Sometimes family is built on the debris of ruined relationships [2]
Category: mcyt
Genre: Found Family, Found fam is my favorite, He’s bad at showing it tho, I'm scared and scarred from some of the relationship tags, Memory Lane, Mentioned Disownment, Mentioned Neglect, Painful nostalgia, Puffy is tubbo’s mum, Sam is tommy’s father, Techno kinda cares lmao, Their cousins now your honour, Tommy’s done with the sleepy boi’s BS, Underage Smoking, awesamdad, like wtf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:41:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29411379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anony_quill/pseuds/Anony_quill
Summary: Sometimes freedom comes with a pack of cigarettes, some pictures, and a talk with someone who was once your brother.
Relationships: Family only you weirdo’s, Mentioned Cara | CaptainPuffy & Tubbo, Mentioned Sam | Awesamdude & TommyInnit, Mentioned Tubbo & Tommyinnit, Mentioned Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Technoblade & TommyInnit
Series: Sometimes family is built on the debris of ruined relationships [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2161290
Comments: 9
Kudos: 267





	Cigarette smoke and memories

Tubbo hated smoke. Sam did too. Puffy scrunched her nose up whenever she got a whiff. The three most important people in his life hated smoke.

And Tommy hated it too. Except for when he was inhaling it into his lungs and blowing it all away with the remnants of his troubles. Since the three hated smoke, he made sure to never do it around them. He’d go somewhere, where the scent of smoke never seemed to leave.

The L’Manberg crater.

He had even found himself a little spot to do his little secret. A ledge about seven feet from the surface that was long enough for half his body to lay without problems. His feet hung over the large abyss, bedrock and crimson red vines underneath him. 

He pulled the unopened pack of cigarettes from his pocket, the wrapper drinking as he fisted it into his hoodie, and lit one up with a match. Beside him was a stack of photos from his childhood. Phil, and techno, and Wilbur, and him, all together and happy. The most recent was from a few weeks before he and Wilbur left for the SMP when Phil and Techno had finally visited from one of their trips. Photos that spanned from throughout his childhood. 

The few he kept underneath everything in his chests, were ones of him and Wilbur, or him and Tubbo. Everything else sat beside him, waiting to be destroyed in a shoddy attempt at freedom. 

And he sat there on that ledge, smoking his cigarette as the stars crept steadily up into the inky indigo sky and he could barely make out the other side of the crater, as shining moonbeams lit up the land. 

He enjoyed the way his insides warmed up until it near burned, how his limbs relaxed in a way he couldn’t do himself, how blowing it all out left him feeling light and free. The small white stick felt right between his fingers, the smoke feels right as it blows past his lips and fades into the air. 

Such beauty in a cloud of soft grey smoke, knowing his time was cut shorter with every little puff. The feeling of control over it all as he blew his life away for the sake of finally feeling relaxed. 

He sees someone stop on the opposite end of the crater, details blurred as they fade into the backdrop of night. He doubts they can see him so he pays no mind to the random person taking a midnight walk. His comm says 12:56 in the morning, a few worried messages from Sam that he had replied to earlier, still on the screen.

The nicotine heightens his senses, so the faint crunching of gravel under shoes way up above him, has him tilting his head back to glare at whoever dares interrupt him. He masks his surprise of seeing Technoblade looking down at him with a brief but colder glare, striking another match and lighting another cigarette. He doesn’t flinch or moves when boots drop down onto his ledge and the right side of his vision is filled with the red of his cape. 

He takes his first drag of the fresh cig as Techno settles beside him. Techno stares at him openly, brow furrowed. Tommy knows he doesn’t look good, eyebags so purple they’re almost black, protruding cheekbones, long dull hair, and a dark hoodie that hides his signature shirt.

He almost doesn’t even look like himself. 

“Smoking’s bad for you,” Techno says after a minute of tense and awkward silence. Tommy huffs a sort of laugh and blows out the smoke into little circles, grinning when they come out in near-perfect rings.

He’s had practice after all. Techno looks at him with an unreadable expression as he does this, red eyes calculating in dark. 

“Could care less.” He says, his voice hoarse from continued use of excursions such as these. 

It’s been a couple of months since Dream had been tossed into prison and healing from his shitload of trauma had been almost harder than actually dealing with the green bastard. There were days he couldn’t leave his bed, or his own mind. 

Sam and puffy had been godsends because they have to be the only people on this whole damn server who knows how to deal with trauma. As much as they were a help, he’s been smoking continuously since pogtopia, having managed to quit for a while as vice president and then have been unable to get a cigarette during exile. 

In fact, the first pack he ever smoked was a half-used one from Wilbur during the beginnings of his spiral.

“Y’know, I’ve been doing this since the beginning of pogtopia?” He asks with a raspy voice. He chuckles at the furrowed brow of his once brother. “I hid it real well didn’t I? Bet you wouldn’t have known unless you saw me in the act.”

“It is how I found you tonight.” Techno hums. His crown glints in the light of the torch he sets up on the wall beside them. 

“The first pack I smoked was Wilbur’s,” he says nostalgically, leaning back against the stone wall of the ledge as he blows out another puff of air. “Thought it was so cool to be like big brother Wilby, the bastard had it right when it came to these.”

“I would’ve thought that I’d smell the smoke,” Techno says. Tommy shrugs and grounds the nub into the ledge, pulling out another right after.

“I was careful about it. Wilbur was always pissed at me as it was, didn’t need him to know I stole his cigarettes.” He says. 

“Does that...Sam dude know you do this?” Techno asks. 

“Dad? Nah, he’d be too understanding about it so then I’d feel guilty and quit.” He says with a grimace. “I like being in control of something for once.”

“Dad?” Techno asks. Tommy grins ferally at him, taking a deep drag and blowing it out through his nose when techno breaks eye contact first. 

“How’s ranboo settling in? What an upgrade amirite?” Tommy asks, blatantly deflecting. Techno shrugs and leans forward to look over the edge. 

“Gotta say man that I hope you ain’t planning on blowing anymore of this up. Even you can’t beat bedrock.” Tommy says. Techno leans back with a huff and roll of red eyes.

“As long as there’s no government then there shouldn’t be a need to,” Techno says. Tommy snickers, curling into himself as he laughs, fingers gripping the hoodie he had been given by Sam. 

“You’re lesson huh? Man, what a lesson, destroying everyone’s shit to feel better about yourself” He says. He can’t find himself to care when techno’s eyes glint dangerously.

“ Tommy the government corrupts people and-“ techno cuts himself off with a cough as Tommy blows a large puff of smoke into his face, grinning as the other man waves it away with a glare.

“I’ve heard your excuse too many times buddy, I really don’t care.” He says. He smashes the nub into the ground, hand beginning to shake from the cold of the night as he tries to light up a match. He curses and reaches his arm across Technoblade to stick the end into the torch. 

“Why do you feel the need to do this?” Techno asks. It’s silent as he takes a long drag.

“Like I said man, I like to feel in control.” He says with a shrug.

“You're blowing away your life,” Techno says. He grins again, chuckling as he leans his head back.

“Exactly.” He says. “I’m finally in control of my own damn life Technoblade! Did you know that every pack has 20 cigarettes? Every cigarette takes 11 minutes off your lifespan so 20 times 11 equals 220 minutes. Well divide that by sixty and you get just over three hours of my life gone per pack.”

He can’t help but chuckle at the math he’s done. Technoblade stunned silence adding to his euphoric giggles. He takes a drag and then blows it out.

“Every pack costs about 2 diamonds, so essentially I’m ending my life for a pretty cheap cost.” He says. He drags, and puffs away, then drags, and puffs away.

“Tommy, what the fuck?” Techno asks lowly. He giggles again, smashing the nub forcefully into the ground again and pulling out another cigarette. 

“I mean it’s cheaper to just off myself by falling off of this ledge, or the nether hub.” His grin turns feral. “Or a tower over a blown-up campsite,”

He watches as realization flickers across techno’s eyes. He knew the man had seen the tower in their search for dogs, and it wouldn’t have surprised him if he had passed it once again for the hell of it.

“Tommy-“ techno behind. 

“ I mean there’s always potions, or alcohol like Tubbo’s doing, or letting the mobs get me, or drowning like I did every morning-“ he continued. Manic giggles bubbling past his lips faster than the words until Techno cuts him off with a grounding hand to the shoulder that has him flinching. He can almost imagine fingerless gloves attached to a green hoodie instead.

“Tommy just stop!” Techno snaps and he instantly falls quiet. He looks away and takes another drag, letting the silence overwhelm them. 

“Did Phil really disown me?” Tommy asks. He waits for an answer but the lack of one is all the answer he needs. He chuckles again. “Shit head can’t even do it to my face, always hiding behind dear old Technoblade to make his big bad statements.”

“Don’t speak about him that way.” Techno snaps. 

“Or what Blade? What’re you gonna do that I don’t already want to do?” He asks. “Can’t kill me if I want to be dead, can’t hurt me if the pain finally makes me feel, so what can you do?”

Techno’s mouth moves to answer but nothing comes out. 

“If that old man is gonna hide behind you to make a statement, as he always does then I guess I don’t really want to hear it.” He says. “I think Dad is already searching for adoption papers and a way to legally adopt me without there y’know...being a legal system to do so.” 

“Why?” Techno asks. He hums and takes the last drag of his nub before squishing it and blowing it out through his nose as he pulls out another. The several nubs that litter the edge near his knee, growing.

“Y’know how farmer burn their crops to make way for healthy soil? I’m burning everything to help me be healthy again.” He says softly. “Burning bridges and all.”

“There’s a saying-“

“If it’s a Greek mythology saying then I’m going to fucking scream.”

“Shut the hell up and let me speak.” Techno huffs. “There’s a saying “don’t burn a bridge because I won’t send you a boat.””

“Bold of you to assume I want your fucking boat to begin with. I’d rather drown in that fucking river I’m trying to cross buddy.” He drags a drag and the blows out a puff. “Have you ever drowned Technoblade? You learn to fear the water once it fills your lungs.”

He allows the warmth of the smoke to fill his lungs. “Besides there’s a saying as well, that goes something like ““I have licked the fire and danced on the ashes of every bridge I’ve ever burned, I fear no hell from you.” Or something along with that shit.” 

“Hell from me?” Techno muses.

“Yeah,” he huffs. He shuffles, his knee brushing against the stack of pictures and sending them askew. Techno glances down at them with a furrowed brow and picks up one. Tommy cranes his head, it’s when he was eleven. He and Wilbur and techno were in a field of flowers. He worked on a flower crown, tongue sticking out the side of his mouth as techno read and Wilbur strummed his guitar. 

“I missed these times.” He says. “Back when shit didn’t hit the fan.”

“Me too,” Techno says gruffly. Tommy picks another out from the pile, one where the three of them are smiling. Tommy was missing his two front teeth and Wilbur was lounging against techno with a bright grin. 

He frowns, feeling the familiar tug of nostalgia at his heartstrings. 

“It feels like it’s been so long since we were a family.” Techno muses. 

He stares over at the debris of a nation he once called his home. There had to be some symbolic shit in all of this? There was, he knew it, but he was too tired to care anymore. He holds the picture up, giving one last mournful glance at it, before holding the edge of the picture to the flame of his lighter. Techno starts next to him, watching as he drops the burning picture onto the pile of painful memories.

“That’s because it was,” Tommy says mournfully. He drops his half-finished cigarette into the flames and leaves techno, climbing back up the side of rough crater walls, and heading home.

Home with Sam, and Tubbo, and puffy.

**Author's Note:**

> So I did most of this in one sitting a couple of weeks ago, so the end was rushed. Hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> Ideas are always welcomed, as is constructive criticism, kudos, and of course comments! 
> 
> Love you all and stay safe!


End file.
